


"Meet me in the woods in half an hour."

by RoseKnightRed



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Alby, Alpha Minho, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Fic Requested, M/M, Minho POV, Omega Newt, Omega Thomas, Possessive Minho, Still set in the Glade, basically all the gladers - you get the gist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:51:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6337351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseKnightRed/pseuds/RoseKnightRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically bloody_inspired_A5 asked: "Can you write an A/B/O universe set it the Glade with possessive Alpha Minho and Omega Thomas with smut? <3" and the journey begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Meet me in the woods in half an hour."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bloody_inspired_A5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloody_inspired_A5/gifts).



Minho had to apologize to Newt.

 

He didn’t mean to snap and say whatever it was he can’t even remember saying in the heat of the moment. Whatever it was, he knew Alby just might finally kill him over it.

 

Okay. So he may have gotten jealous. Just a little.

 

Or a lot.

 

But no one had to know that. Everyone probably thought he either wanted Newt for himself, had failing biology and wanted Alby, or had an outdated and over exaggerated biology thinking being an alpha made him superior to the omega. Even Alby wasn’t superior to Newt and he _was_ Newt’s alpha.

 

But no.

 

Yes, Minho was jealous of the pair. But he was jealous of what they had.

 

They completed each other perfectly. They were the Lead Alpha Pair of the Glade Pack for a reason.

 

Each of the Keepers were alphas, too, though. Most already finding their omega mates despite however long they’d been trapped there. So why was Minho, who’d been in the Glade since the beginning alongside his alpha pair, one of the only unbonded alphas? It wasn’t for a lack of trying, just none of his attempts at courtship had satisfied either party. It also didn’t help that most of their pack were betas and the unbonded omegas either thought his position was too dangerous to risk losing their potential mate or were easy and, dare he say it, shallow: fawning over his title and the ‘ideal alpha/masculinity’ stereotype instead of even learning how to pronounce his goddamn name.

 

He’ll apologize as soon as he gets back. Maybe they’ll forgive him, and blessedly not kill him, if he properly explains himself. Maybe Newt will even comfort him and help organize the mess that was his head. Or tell him what he’s thinking and what all he’s doing wrong regardless of if he wants to hear it, which is more likely. And Alby will still kill him because Newt stubbing his own toe would validate genocide on all rocks, trees, buildings, furniture, and 0.5+ degree inclinations of the ground across the world and galaxy.

 

He’ll also have to tell Alby about that ‘dead’ griever he found today. Great.

 

Can’t the day just be over yet?

 

 _‘Oh Minho, no. There’s still gonna be another Greenie tonight,’_  he sarcastically sang in his own head, prompting himself to muse if that was what started whatever he’d done/said this morning.

 

Minho’s mind began wondering as to who the new guy would be. Probably some poor beta unfortunate enough to end up as a Slicer if Winston’s feeling even a fraction of the sadism his position requires. Or maybe another alpha: not old enough to take anyone’s position but young enough to befriend and ground the last Greenie, a young omega named Chuck, and to be groomed into a Keeper one day.

 

But what if it’s another omega? What if it’s a tan little thing following Glade Mama Newt around like an impressionable little duckling? Wandering into the Maze and needing Minho to be the chivalrous Alpha he is and sweep him away to the safety of his den where he rewards Minho for his gallant act despite punishment for breaking the rules and putting himself in danger and….

 

And Minho needs to nip that train of thought in the bud while he still can, because the Creators seem to hate Minho and wouldn’t bother sending another omega so soon after Chuck.

 

How long had he been running now? Even so far into his own head Minho never got lost. He really could run the Maze in his sleep by now.

 

But it had been enough to exhaust him.

 

Four seconds back from his mind.

Three steps into the Glade.

Two chocolate eyes he’s probably hallucinating.

And one collapsing Minho later...

 

“Alby! Newt! Somebody get them!” Minho managed to hear from however far away despite the ringing in his ears and lack of oxygen reaching his brain. It was a nice voice despite the panic in it making Minho want to surround whoever it belonged to and ensure he never hears the emotion touch the voice again. How does one breathe again?

 

“Hey - you okay?” the voice was closer now. Its owner knelt by him with a scent Minho’s baser brain said belonged in that position next to him.

 

“I’m … fine,” Minho forced out between breaths. “Who the klunk are you?” he tried to regain control of himself and his image.

 

“I’m new here,” despite Minho having already deduced that much. “I’m Thomas,” the boy caught on. _’Good boy,’_  Minho was almost tempted to shucking coo at the scattered boy who thankfully seemed to be calming down some even if he still sounded worried.

 

Minho picked himself up into a sitting position, cursing today for being the one day his hair chose to flatten. But before he could respond, or even get a glimpse of Thomas, an upset Alby came jogging up, “What’re you doing back Minho? What happened?” Minho couldn’t detect and maliciousness in his voice or posture so whatever he was upset at wasn’t directed _at_  Minho but he thought he’d still tread carefully. If not for his own sake then for the Greenie’s.

 

“Calm your wad, Alby,” Minho was gaining some confidence and strength already. Strange. “Make yourself useful and get me some water – I dropped my pack out there somewhere,” and where did that come from?

 

This earned a kick to the leg from the older alpha, too hard to be playful, which he deserved. “What _happened?”_

 

“I can barely talk shuck-face!” Minho snapped, “Get me some water!”

 

_’Bad, Minho. Bad. No more suicidal Gladers, remember?!’_

 

Alby told the newbie how Minho was ‘the only shank who can talk to him like that’, blah, blah, and something about the Cliff that Minho did not appreciate directed at Thomas, with … with a hint of a smile on his face?

 

But Minho finally got a chance to look at the newbie. Thomas. The name suited him. But Minho may already be biased. He let himself look his fill of the boy alternating between watching Alby leave and directing a surprised face at Minho.

 

“He lets you boss him around?” Thomas almost whispered in awe.

 

 _‘Not even in my dreams,’_ Minho didn’t say. Instead he took the opportunity, “You scared of that pip-squeak? Dude, you got a lot to learn. Freakin’ Newbies.”

 

And he instantly regrets it when warm whiskey eyes aren’t so warm anymore and a hurt, “Isn’t he the Lead Alpha?” reaches his ears.

 

Not even three minutes into meeting the omega, because Minho’s not stupid and has at least put that two-and-two together somehow, and he already can’t back-tract to safer conversation. “Lead Alpha?” he has to roll with it now. “Yeah, call him that all you want. Maybe we should call him El Presidente. Nah, nah – Admiral Alby. There you go,” Minho rubs his eyes to hide the shame he felt even joking like that.

 

“So who _is_ the Leader if he isn’t?”

 

Minho couldn’t find a safe answer despite the tempting opportunity so he eventually settled on ignoring the question entirely, “Greenie, just shut it before you confuse yourself more. Why do you shanks always come in here asking stupid questions? It’s really annoying.”

 

Is it getting later than Minho thought it was? He could have sworn he was warm not even two seconds ago.

 

“What do you expect us to do?”

 

So that’s where the ice was coming from. Minho desperately wants that anger, although justified, pointed literally anywhere but at himself.

 

The alpha in him wasn’t on the same page though. Not even the same book apparently. “Do what you’re told, keep your mouth shut. That’s what I expect,” Minho was looking Thomas square in the face.

 

Thomas shooting back a few inches before stopping himself was not the reaction Minho wanted even if his instincts bubbled with interest. What did hold both he and his instincts’ interest though was the omega holding his ground and sliding in a “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what you did as a Newbie,” as he and Minho watched each other carefully. Still matching the other in their staring contest.

 

“I was one of the first Gladers, slinthead,” which, true but unnecessary. “Shut your hole till you know what you’re talking about.” Where was Alby when you needed him? If Minho can’t stop himself than he seriously needs Alby to come chop his tongue out. Maybe Winston. Minho won’t even have to finish asking and he’ll do it for free.

 

Thomas was starting to get up; closed off and fed up with the alpha’s klunk, Minho’s sure. Minho panics and watches his hand snap out and grab a rather tan, surprisingly toned, arm.

 

“Dude, sit down. I’m just playing with your head. It’s too much fun – you’ll see with the next Newbie…” Minho prays he sounds genuine and worth a reevaluation.

 

From the look on his face, even Thomas wasn’t expecting to be put at ease so simply. But as he is, Minho fights the temptation to preen with every fiber of self-control he could possibly own.

 

Alby arrived soon after, Newt not far behind him and a plastic cup filled with water that Minho immediately downs without any concept of caution.

 

Newt already smiling at Thomas, “Hey Tommy, I think Chuck was looking or you. And later, I’d like some help in the garden.”

 

Thomas smiled back and Minho felt jealousy for the up-teenth time that day, jealousy for the quick and strong bonds omegas tended to make amongst themselves unlike alphas, but managed to handle it for a change.

 

Sensing Alby’s mood and taking Newt’s kind, and probably true, dismissal for what it was Thomas politely made his exit, leaving Minho alone with the pair.

 

Minho missed him already.

 

“So what happened?” Alby didn’t bother waiting for Thomas to be out of ear-shot or not.

 

And Minho told them what he could. About the ‘dead’ griever he’d found and eventually what happened that morning; though he suspected they’d already figured as much as he was still breathing, as strained as it was from all the recent running then talking. The whole time subconsciously watching the direction the brunet had disappeared in like he was a magnet drawn that way.

**Author's Note:**

> don't expect frequent updates as life gets in my way a lot recently (I do have a second chapter started though and most of the fic's outline)
> 
> let me know if you want this too be longer or shorter but i'm leaning to semi-shorter to fulfill the prompt without discarding some plot or making it too fast/forced  
> (also - possibly temporary title)
> 
> hope you enjoy and i'd love feedback and/or constructive criticism


End file.
